I Want to Hold More than That
by Monroe-Militia
Summary: Sequel to "I Want to Hold Your Hand". I don't think this is what morse code was created for...
**A/N: This is a sequel to another one-shot of mine called I Want to Hold Your Hand. It might make more sense if you've read that, but I don't think it's entirely necessary.**

* * *

Charlie held her breath as a warm palm land halfway up her thigh. She knew this game and was used to it by now, or at least used to it enough to keep herself from any sharp intakes of breath when his skin met hers. That didn't mean her heart didn't still pound in her chest like gunfire had just broken out all around them though.

Monroe's hand slowly glided an inch or two further down from her knee as he spelt out C-H-A-R-L-O-T-T-E

He was always doing this now, ever since she had resorted to communicating to him in morse code when they had been captured together. That had been for survival though, this he was doing just to mess with her.

The other day, he had walked up behind her without warning and brushed his fingers along her back, over the bare flesh between the hem of her tank top and the waist of her jeans, and she had practically jumped out of her skin as a surge of electricity had coursed through her spine. She'd known who it was immediately, even before his hand had slid to her side and his thumb had begun to slowly swipe along the flesh of her hip, spelling out a question.

W-H-A-T A-R-E Y-O-U D-O-I-N-G C-H-A-R-L-O-T-T-E

She knew it was just an excuse to touch her. More and more often he would come up and spell something pointless, regardless of whether speaking out loud would have been just as effective, just for the sake of making her squirm. He liked to add her name too. Always Charlotte, never Charlie. That was more letters. That let him linger a little longer.

She wasn't sure which was worse: the times when he'd place his hand somewhere completely innocent and then spell out something inappropriate, or when he'd touch her somewhere a little riskier and ask something completely innocent.

It was surprising that he hadn't asked her a question this time. It seemed to be his goal in life to distract her with his touch and then expect her to respond. Not being able to answer would be like an admission that he got under her skin. It would be letting him win.

Judging by the way his hand remained on her inner thigh, he expected conversation but was in no rush to start it himself. He was the one who had come over. He had sat down where she was eating and decided to play with her leg, even though Miles and her mother were at a distance that was probably out of earshot, but certainly not out of eyeshot. The only thing obscuring her family's view of Monroe's actions, should they choose to turn their heads in that direction, were her knees that had already been up when he had come over.

M-Y T-E-N-T T-O-N-I-G-H-T

That was new.

Monroe's hand was even lower now and it was clouding her vision, but not enough that the thought he might be propositioning her as just a part of their game of chicken didn't cross her mind.

She set her spoon down in her almost empty bowl, then set it beside her on the grass and placed one of her hands over his. Her fingers gently traced out a pattern of short and longer strokes over the back of his hand.

M-I-L-E-S W-I-L-L K-I-L-L Y-O-U I-F H-E L-O-O-K-S

Bass's rough fingers curled against the denim, slowly and deliberately. His palm shifted and her thigh wasn't the only place she was feeling a sudden heat.

Y-O-U-R T-E-N-T T-H-E-N

She caught him shoot a look at her out of the corner of his eye, then his attention was already back on watching Miles and her mother as if he was pretending to follow their conversation from this distance.

He couldn't be serious. Could he?

When she didn't respond fast enough for his liking, he murmured out loud, "I mean, we could go for no tent, but that's just asking to get interrupted."

"Wait for me in yours then," Charlie responded. She was tempted, but unsure of whether she really meant to follow through with it or not. Not that she minded the idea of him waiting up for her for no reason. In fact, the idea brought a smile to her lips.

O-N-L-Y I-F Y-O-U P-R-O-M-I-S-E T-O C-O-M-E

If he didn't stop that, then she was bound to drag him off right then and there to help her do just that, so she grabbed her empty bowl from beside her and slid her leg out from beneath him.

She rose her feet to "I guess you'll have to wait and see."

* * *

It figured that Miles was the one ending their night-time strategy session early. He was also the one who had initiated it, but that didn't matter. The reason he'd been so antsy the whole time was probably because he was afraid that Rachel was going to go to bed early and fall asleep before he could get back in time to make proper use of that tent they had all to themselves.

Well, that was great for Miles. His odds of getting laid were probably a hell of a lot higher than Bass's were.

Bass wasn't convinced Charlie was coming. Sure, he had plenty of evidence to suggest that she would like to be. Her reactions to his touch were better than alcohol and twice as addictive. She was his new risk of choice and his favourite way to keep his mind off of all the things he didn't want creeping back in, but just because she was his latest bad decision didn't mean she was willing to let him be hers.

It wasn't that she was a bad choice, just a bad decision. She was the perfect choice in all the wrong context, like a shiny new car fifty percent off in a dingy used car lot. Something was wrong with the picture, but he was willing to be reckless and ignore every warning sign around them. He was perfectly alright with worrying about the consequences once the tree was already through the windshield, but the price was a lot higher for her.

Even if she did show up, he was sure it wouldn't be any time soon. He was in for a long night of sitting up, waiting on the off-chance she was in a self-destructive mood. Maybe that was her plan. Let him stew and then laugh at how tired he was the next morning.

The moon was high as he approached his tent, thankful that Miles had set his and Rachel's tent up at a far enough distance that he wouldn't have to risk hearing or catching a glimpse of whatever it was they were into. He pulled the flap open and ducked his head down to enter, only to find that he wasn't alone.

Charlie was reclined on the ground with her legs folded to the side. One hand supported her weight as she leaned back, curls cascading behind her shoulder and leaving him with a tempting view of the tan flesh left exposed by one of her many tiny tank tops, while the other grasped a bottle of his whiskey. Her leather jacket sat on the ground behind her, piled where it had fallen when she had shrugged it off, still half-draped around her waist. The corner of her lip twitched up in amusement as she pointed out, "You were supposed to be the one waiting."

"If you would have given me a straight answer, I would have gotten rid of Miles and come back earlier," he pointed out.

"If I give you a straight answer now, will you stop waiting in the doorway?" She questioned.

He hesitated for a moment. The moonlight shining from behind him was just enough light to properly admire her in and he was afraid to lose that opportunity, but he wanted to do more than just watch her.

Her eyes were on his still. Somehow they seemed to challenge him to stay just like that and urge him to hurry his ass up in at the same time.

* * *

Bass looked like a teenager who had gotten a girl to his bedroom for the first time, just standing in the doorway. It was entertaining really, but she her patience for it was wearing a little thin.

She took a sip of whiskey as he finally stepped inside. The flap of the tent fell most of the way closed behind him, but a few beams of moonlight let her see where he was in the dim space. Charlie held the bottle out to him and he took her up on the offer, only to stick it back in his bag without taking a swig.

She was about to comment that if he was going to show up late, he could at least share his whiskey, when he pulled his shirt off over his head and she suddenly had no complaints. About time he got things moving. At least now she hadn't removed more clothing before he'd shown up than had been removed since.

She rose to her feet and took a couple small steps closer to him as she shimmied out of her jeans, then raised her arms over her head and tilted her head at him expectantly. He let his own shirt fall to the ground before reaching to remove hers.

His warm fingers brushed her sides, giving her an idea. Once her shirt was out of the way and had joined his, she brought her lips to his neck and parted them to give her tongue access to his salty flesh.

* * *

Once again, it took him a moment to figure out what she was doing. He missed the last few letters, but was able to piece it together.

A-S-T-I-A-N

She was spelling out his name and it was hot.

Two could play at that game. He snaked his arm around her and unhooked her bra, letting it fall away from her body.

* * *

His hands on her chest, he kissed his way down to the valley of her breasts, his scruff rough against her skin as his tongue manoeuvred its way downwards.

C-H-A-R-L

Her eyes closed and her head fell back.

-O-T-T-E

Her eyes snapped open when she felt the sudden loss of his touch. He bent to the ground, grabbing hold of her hips on the way so he could pull her down with him.

Charlie landed in his lap and his hand slid up to her lower back, pulling her closer until his lips met hers with a violent urgency. Her hand landed on his shoulder as she pressed herself against him. He was already hard and he let out a grunt as she moved against him.

Legs wrapped tight to pull him with her, she leaned back until she was on the ground with him on top of her. Her hands grabbed his jean-clad ass as she moved her mouth from his to murmur, "These are in the way."

* * *

He appreciated her enthusiasm, but he had other plans.

"Not for this," he responded as he slid down her body, only pausing once he landed between her thighs, which he gently pushed apart. He buried his face in her, teasing her through her panties.

" _Those_ are in the way," Charlie told him breathily.

Judging by the way she was squirming under her touch, Bass begged to differ, but he obliged her anyways and pushed the fabric down far enough that she could kick it off herself.

* * *

His tongue was tracing out words against her, but she couldn't decode his message. The more she tried to concentrate on it, the more difficult it became.

She could only manage to catch a letter or two here or there, but she didn't want him to stop. It didn't matter what he was spelling out. For all she cared, it could be dictionary definitions and it would still make this hotter than any of her past sexual experiences. It didn't matter what the message was, just as long as he didn't stop.

Her fingers wrapped in his hair as she pushed herself against him to show that she needed him to keep going.

* * *

He could tell the sweet nothings were getting to her. Charlie's ragged breath and erratically bucking hips let her appreciation show. All it took was a subtle increase in pressure to send her plummeting over the edge, tugging at his hair rough enough to make his head jerk back.

* * *

Charlie eyes fluttered open to find him sitting back on his haunches as he licked her juices from her lips. She was still trying to catch her breath as he shot her an arrogant smile.

"You're going to need to take those pants off now," she insisted.

* * *

Charlie was utterly exhausted as she fell back with a satisfied sigh. He must have been just as drained as she was because when she had caught her breath, he was still panting by her side and reached over to grab her hand instead of talking.

T-H-A-T W-A-S S-O-M-E-T-H-I-N-G

She was inclined to agree.

W-E S-H-O-U-L-D D-O T-H-A-T A-G-A-I-N

I-M G-O-I-N-G T-O N-E-E-D A M-I-N-U-T-E

* * *

 **A/N: Please read and review! I hope you enjoyed it. :)**


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